Transitions: A Pre Dresden Fanfic
by Skye-San
Summary: There are big powers moving on Earth and in the Nevernever and it seems to be up to two seemingly random strangers to figure out what's going on. But how random can anything be when Mab is involved? Takes place five years before Storm Front.
1. An Unlikely Invitation

**This story is co-authored by Shah_Rhe and Skye-San, an upstart young pair with a go-getter attitude.**

[Disclaimer: While quite a few of the characters and situations presented in the following chapters are original, the rules of magic and some of the characters were created by the wonderful and very talented Jim Butcher for The Dresden Files. All hail Jim Butcher! Oh, and just as an FYI, there will probably be several prequels (mostly one-shots) posted periodically that will shed more light on the characters' pasts. Happy Reading.]

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**Chapter 1 - Patton  
**

I am not a permissive man, though neither am I particularly quick to anger. A very few things upset me enough to act without exercising common sense, and this particular individual had decided to break my fourth commandment: thou shalt not lay thine hands upon mine tresses without express permission. Given this woman was a vampire of the White Court and was attempting to incite all sorts of lusty thoughts and feelings within me, the gesture could nearly be seen as intimate - she might have been winding her fingers in my hair to draw me into a kiss. And I wasn't particularly upset about the attempted kiss or the hand resting higher up on my inner thigh than was strictly necessary or prudent. After all, she was rather attractive, and her sparkling eyes and plunging neckline were intriguing, to say the least. Since she wasn't Red Court, I didn't need to worry about addictive saliva, but that wasn't to say that she was a lightweight. The fact that she had been watching me almost unblinkingly for nearly 20 minutes was a cause for suspicion, however, since these types tend not to discriminate. If rejected, they choose another, and their abilities more or less guarantee that anyone they desire will be putty in their hands.

"Please take your hand off me."

"Which one?" She cocked an eyebrow and her hand inched upwards along my thigh.

"Which do you think?"

Her left hand moved back to my knee, but the other was still twined in my hair, and she leaned closer. I immediately lost interest. No knowing what she or anyone else might do with my hair if she managed to sneak a few strands, which is why I chose this hairstyle in the first place. I spent time each day carefully rolling my dreads so I wouldn't look like a dirty hippie or a stoned Rastafarian. I had taken more hits to protect my hair than I cared to count, and now this woman, despite my body language, would not let go.

"The other one, please. Don't touch my hair."

She transferred her hand to the back of my neck, and without hesitation I punched her in the stomach hard enough to make a normal person buckle. Her eyes merely widened in surprise and she released me. As I said, the hair is a sore subject. "It's been a pleasure," I assured her, and dropped a few bills on the couch beside her to cover my drink. "But you're really not my type." And with those words I left her confused and probably slightly nauseous, wondering who I was and why I reacted so strongly. After all, I had no business knowing who - scratch that, _what_ - she was.

It was a pleasant night and I decided to walk the mile or so back to my place. The bar was in a largely residential neighborhood, lots of families with children and some career professionals. There weren't any streetlights in this area. It was very dark. The night was overcast, and there was no moon. One by one the lights in homes winked out. It was summer, and kids didn't have to get up early the next day, but parents still did. As I absently surveyed the deep shadows and wondered if any of them might be concealing nasties that wanted to kill me, I wondered about the woman. Pale and fair, a bit coltish, sporting a black designer sheath and heels that would put some strippers to shame. Many people match that general description, though, and details like hair color and complexion can be easily changed. I detected a bit of a New England accent, but she could have been faking it. She was way overdressed for this casual neighborhood bar, meaning she wasn't from the area. Which begs the question, what was she doing there, precisely, when there are dozens of fetish clubs and other spots in Milwaukee where literal orgies can take place in the bathrooms, on the dance floor, or in the back rooms? Why the Blue Moon?

I passed the park, really just a stretch of grass, eerily illuminated by the dull glow of yellow street lights that tend to go out when I approach and re-light once I'm a safe distance away. You'd think I was a wizard by the way lights behave around me, but as far as I know, I have no magical powers. I can also successfully operate a car, a cell phone, and all of the conveniences of modern life without having everything fall to shit around me, as is usually the case with the magically gifted.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I walked slightly faster, straining my eyes and my ears in the moonless and fairly silent night. There was barely time to reach for my belt before the thing was upon me, fair, nude limbs gleaming in the dark. She managed to stumble on those ridiculous heels and I kicked her knee hard enough to bend it in the other direction. A decidedly non-human hiss, and she still sprang at me. I don't know if she ever saw the knife, but she certainly felt it slash across her belly. A groan as she stumbled forward, and a wet plop as a few of her insides became external. But despite her superhuman speed, she was slowed by the fact that she was probably tripping over her intestines, and I knocked her onto what I hoped was her stomach (at any rate, the sticky side of her was facing down) and broke her neck. Unsure if that would do the trick, I jerked it as far around as I could, and then, gritting my teeth, pulled her head clean off.

Immediately she exploded into ectoplasm, coating my knee where it had been pressed into her spine and my hands, as well. No indication of others. If she had backup, they either hadn't made it in time or had fled at some point. Stupid of me. I should have been looking for accomplices, but I have the minor fault of being more oriented towards my immediate rather than long-term survival. Call me crazy, but I enjoy living to fight another day. So I continued on my way, feeling the sticky remnants slowly disappear from my hands and my right knee. I tossed my switchblade up and down and whistled to keep myself occupied as I made my way home along 27th street to State.

My house isn't much to look at. It's certainly not in the best of neighborhoods, but not all of us want to live in mansions by the lake. It's an old three-story house on a small lot with a front lawn that slopes sharply downward, enormous and creaky and all mine. I'd taken a lot of shit jobs to pay for it, and quite a few equally shit but better-paying jobs to gut it from the inside out and convert the 3600 square foot 9-bedroom, 3-bath home into a suitable place to live. The kitchen was the worst. I think I took a few years off the contractor's life. Maybe I shouldn't have threatened to break both his knees if my granite counter-tops didn't look perfect. In my experience, though, the fear that their ass is about to be handed to them is, for most people, a pretty good incentive to get the job done in a reasonable amount of time.

I didn't notice the little white envelope on the floor until I'd nearly stepped on it. I no longer had a letter slot in the door - I didn't like the idea of people being able to put small, possibly explosive-type things on my doormat if they so pleased. It was addressed in a flowery script that didn't belong to these times, to a Mr. Patton. I smiled. That wasn't my name, of course, merely a moniker I had adopted. That meant that whoever was shoving things beneath my door didn't know my True Name.

_Mr. Patton,_

_You are hereby cordially invited to the ball celebrating the inauguration of Lord Aduro Arenas as the ruling noble of Wisconsin. All hospitality agreements will be in effect, keeping in line with The Accords and with Lord Arenas as host. There will be food, music, and entertainment until the sun comes up._

_Presentation of this invitation will allow for validated parking at the site of the party and will serve as recognition of the hospitality agreement extended to the holder by Lord Arenas. Further information below. RSVP not necessary._

_Date: Saturday, November 12_  
_Time: 9:00pm - 5:00am (Ceremony to start at 11:00pm)_  
_Location: Milton's Lounge_  
_2974 N Oakland Ave_  
_Milwaukee, WI 53211-3228_  
_Dress: Formal_

_*It would be greatly appreciated if you would leave your larger artillery at home. It may be disturbing to other guests, and could be seen as willful intimidation._

So I'd just been attacked by..._something_ from the Nevernever, and now a Red Court noble had invited me to his inauguration. That name sounded unpleasantly familiar, and the fact that he had expressly mentioned The Accords and the strict code of hospitality bound up in them was a sure indication that he was attempting to find a way around them. He couldn't harm me, and, as host, nor could he allow his guests to cause me harm. But vampires are just as slippery and wily as the Fae. As the host of such a large gala, he couldn't be responsible for watching every guest at every moment, and if I should be injured, turned, or killed when he was distracted or called away for any reason, nobody could technically hold it against him.

Not attending simply wasn't an option. I reread the last line about "leaving large artillery at home" and scoffed. I certainly wasn't going to show up with my rocket launcher, but walking into a den of vampires unarmed is, if not suicide, something directly akin to it. I'd just have to make sure nothing was too conspicuous. And besides, I didn't want to ruin the lines of any of my best suits.


	2. Call Me Crazy, But

**Chapter 2 - Chet  
**

Some people liked to call me foolhardy, or reckless. I liked to think of it as bravery. Even I knew I was fooling myself, but it was part of my personality and I didn't see it changing anytime soon. The nature of the beast and all that. I managed to get myself into a lot of trouble, but I got myself out of it too. I had spent the last ten years on my own and I wasn't dead. Yet.

The bus I had been on coughed and died as it pulled into the station and I was glad it had managed to make it that far. I had tried to find the least technological way to get to Milwaukee and the way least likely to kill everyone travelling with me.

I grabbed my bag from the undercarriage and trudged away, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Inconspicuous had become about as instinctual as breathing so I moved off to the side, hunching my shoulders a bit and generally looking bored with the whole event. The few people who had been on the last bus with me scattered into the darkness and I picked a direction and walked.

The streets of downtown Milwaukee reminded me of nothing more than the bastardized cousin of Chicago. The litter, flickering streetlights, and shuffling nightgoers only seemed to be the pale ghosts of their Chicago equivalents. It put me at an odd sense of ease, knowing that I had managed cities much bigger and scarier than this out of the way town in Wisconsin.

I guessed that in a city like this a motel was sure to be on the outskirts of downtown in any direction and since I knew the lake was east, I headed west. The Fellowship of St. Giles was waiting for my contact to let them know I had landed safely before they filled me in on the entirety of my mission. It was hard to be truly worried when I had been battling vampires for the better part of thirty years and for nearly ten by myself. The thought of my former partner brought the usual wash of sadness and with it the feeling that I shouldn't have been the only one to survive that raid.

I pushed the thoughts away as I was approached by a woman dressed in what appeared to be a head scarf tied around her almost malnourished-appearing torso and shorts that threatened to end her if she took too deep a breath. All of this was balanced on heels that looked to be not on the shy side of five inches and stumbling towards me.

"Hey, sexy," she wheezed and I didn't know if it was her nearly toxic breath or the cliched line she had just delivered that made me back away from her.

"Not interested."

"You don't even know what I'm offering sweetie." She didn't even react to the cold look I had laced the comment with, shifting her stance ever so slightly so that the scarf shifted and she bared the left side of her midriff to me.

I had no idea what she found attractive about me. When I looked in the mirror I saw what I was, a fairly tall man of Asian descent with ear-length black hair mixed in with blond streaks. I was muscular, but in that wiry way that makes people look you over and decide they can beat you so easily its not worth the effort. Some people found my nearly black slanted eyes handsome, even more so when they saw that in the light they were actually an extremely dark blue. From my vest/t-shirt/jeans combo to my combat boots and fingerless gloves I seemed to be only a certain kind of person's cup of tea, but I guess she had seen a bit of everything judging by the look of her.

"I'm pretty sure that whatever it is I am not interested."

"Well then at least escort a lovely young lady towards home."

I considered the words lovely and young only long enough to shudder as I compared my internal ideas with the person before me. I shrugged and let her point the way. She was heading west as well, though weaving south through a series of overpasses. Her idle chitchat slowly began to wear on my nerves as she kept hinting that she wanted to sleep with me about as subtly as an airplane crash

"You seem to be new to town, maybe I can help you get acquainted with the area."

I stiffened, wondering if maybe what I had taken for a mostly harmless prostitute was in fact one of the beings I had been sent here to exterminate, then realized she had probably guessed because of the day bag slung over my shoulder and the generally aimless way I had been wandering. I looked around and couldn't really hear or see anything, even with my slightly enhanced night vision.

As far as I could tell, the woman, girl, whatever she decided she wanted to call herself was a purely vanilla mortal and not really a threat to me. Unless I was way off my mark, I could take her if she was stupid enough to attack. I went to flick a piece of hair off her shoulder and she flinched away from me, just getting out of touching distance so I couldn't get a sense of whether she had any magic or not.

I was troubling over whether this was a coincidence and she was just a paranoid prostitute or if she actually was trying to hide something from me when she stopped walking and I looked around us immediately, checking for movement.

"Are you sure you won't take me up on my offer?"

Her words were thick with lust, something I was sure she had practiced in the mirror. She pushed me up against the base of one of the supports for the highways that looped high above our heads and pushed herself against me, grinding her lower body against mine. I noticed that she still had managed to not touch me skin-to-skin so I reached up to grab her hand and she moved.

She moved so fast I almost didn't catch the motion with my eyes.

A red hot pain spread across the my cheek and I saw her standing a few feet away with a sinister grin on her face. Experience told me that she probably could have ended me with ease but had chosen not, probably to toy with me. There were only a few beings that I had tangled with that could move that fast and one of them was the reason I had been sent to Milwaukee.

She ran towards me and this time I was ready for her. I ducked under the swing of her blade and reached forward to grab her by the neck. The stifled gasp she gave was almost as pathetic as the look of surprise on her face. I sneered at her and began to lift her off the ground slowly. I could see the tattoos that ran all over my body becoming visible, the black ink spreading from the hand that held her suspended off the ground. Her eyes were so wide I could see the whites of them and beyond the whites, a flash of red.

I went to knock the knife out of her hand, and noticed that it hadn't been a blade but the six inch claws that protruded from each of her fingertips that had cut me. When I looked back up to her face, she was sneering at me and it was my turn to look shocked. I retaliated by squeezing her neck with my right hand and reaching for the gun in my right shoulder holster with my left hand. Whatever the hell she was, she was going down.

Her arm blurred for me and I let go of her neck and punched her with my left hand. The movement was almost faster than my conscious thought and I could tell it caught her off guard by the way she went flying about twenty feet and landing in a crumpled heap. I might not know what she was, but apparently she had no idea who she was fucking with either.

When she finally climbed to her feet, she wasn't the same nasty prostitute I had knocked down. In fact, based on how hard I had hit her, she shouldn't have gotten up at all if she were purely human. Now she had long orange hair, not reddish orange, but a shade of pure orange no human could naturally have. The claws were on her feet (now bare) and her hands, though it was her face that really unsettled me. I had never seen someone so attractive and terrifying at the same time.

The sclera of her eyes was a bright red instead of the normal white and it surrounded an orange iris and white pupil. Her face was almost elven in its shape, with gracefully pointed ears coming through her hair. I could imagine that if her mouth had been closed, her lips would have had that pouting quality that had made many men's heart melt. But her mouth wasn't closed, it was open, and she was panting, revealing twin rows of razor sharp teeth that were pointed slightly forward. All of this was settled in a jaw that was slightly unhinged, either by my punch or by design to get larger prey into the things mouth.

Whatever the thing was, it wasn't a vampire, and when she began to run towards me, or rather blur towards me, I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to let her take me and do with me what she would. I shook my head to try and clear it with just enough time to finally pull my gun out of the right shoulder rig and put a bullet between those eerie eyes. If you can't figure out what something is, a bullet between the eyes will usually do the trick. She fell back and immediately began to get up. The back of her head was still on the ground when she did and I backed up into the support beam, wondering what the hell to do next.

Then she moved even faster than before and I emptied my gun into her. The bullets only succeeding in enraging her and making her have an odd resemblance to swiss cheese. I dropped the gun and ran towards her. She grabbed me by my arms and we spun. I let go of her with my left hand and used it to break her left forearm and twist the broken limb behind her. She gasped in pain and reached for me with her right hand so I grabbed it and pushed her forward onto the ground. Her face made a crunching noise as it made contact with the dirt.

I used my knee to brace her as I ripped her right arm out of the socket and let it fall limply to the hard packed dirt beneath her. Then I let her go and stood up over her. She tried in vain to turn herself over, showing me one side of her face as she tried to look at me. I had a sudden wave of that want to give into her and before I could act on it, I lifted my foot and brought it down on her face, over and over until there was nothing left.

Only then did I notice that her blood wasn't red, but a putrid green that stained my boots before the blood and her entire body turned into ectoplasm.

_Just great, something from the Nevernever, _I thought ruefully. The Fae, or a Demon as it seemed she was, or had been, was all I needed on top of the vampires apparently already infesting this town.

I went back and grabbed my gun, reloading it and putting it back into my holster. I looked around with my limited field of vision and couldn't see anything. Slowing my thudding heart was a bit harder but even after I did all I could hear were the cars far overhead on the highway and the muttering of someone a few hundred feet to my left.

The police would be coming soon, at least if there had been anyone around to hear all of the gunfire. Well I guess they would have to have access to a phone as well and most of the people around this area were homeless. There didn't seem to be many residences in the near vicinity of the bus station. Regardless, I ran off in the direction I had been heading initially and hoped the ectoplasm would dry before I ran into anyone.

I eventually stumbled onto a place called Bickler's Coachlight Inn. I had passed quite a few places, but I wanted someplace small and this place looked quiet and out of the way. Also, if that was something more than a random attack then I wanted to be far from the place they'd caught me before. I woke the man working the front desk and any initial annoyance he felt at having been woken up was erased when I paid for a week in advance plus some extra to be left alone.

After getting my key and walking up to my room, I pushed the door open and threw my bag onto the bed. It made a little card propped on the pillow bounce and fall face up on the bed. I walked over and looked down at it, expecting to see one of those cheesy motel welcome cards, but instead saw my name written in an elegant script that looked far too classy to have been written by anyone from the current century.

_Niran Gravois_

The chills that went down my spine had nothing to do with the fact that the motel had no heating and it was October. As far as I knew I hadn't been followed to the motel and it didn't make any kind of sense for someone to have known where I was going seeing as I hadn't known where I was going. I looked around the room, checked the bathroom and the one closet. There was nobody in the room with me. I even checked under the bed. The windows were sealed and opened from the inside, it was enough to make me think of being in the twilight zone. Eventually, I sat down on the bed after double checking the locks on the door and flipped the card over.

_Chet (As I know you like to be called),_

_You and I have not seen each other for quite some time and I know you must miss me nearly as much as I miss you. We have so much catching up to do and I can't wait to do so. I have just arrived in town just as you have and while I enjoy much more luxurious accommodations, I hope that you are at least enjoying your time in this fair city so far. _

_Because I know that our business here will cross paths, I was hoping that you would join me for a little get-together I am having at my humble abode. You will find the invitation in the drawer under that book of fairy tales the Christians love so much. I always did love a good stoning, but I forget myself. I do hope you will join me this Saturday. We can have time to talk. Alone._

_Hoping You Are Well,_  
_Your Eminence _  
_Lord Aduro Arenas_

I rubbed my eyes and looked at the note again. It definitely said it was from Lord Arenas. It was enough that he had been sent to Milwaukee because of some stirrings in the Red Court, but it had to be Lord Arenas. Fury and fear played through me and I was left motionless by it. When the phone rang I nearly shot it. I looked down at the trembling gun in my hand and re-holstered it, realizing I had even managed to pull the safety off.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Beckett? I am just calling from the font desk to see if you need a wake-up call." The voice wasn't that of Lord Arenas as I had expected, just the dimwitted front desk worker. I had almost forgotten the name I had given him. "Sir, are you okay?"

"M'fine. And no, I won't be needing a wake up call. Good night."

Slamming the phone back into the cradle shouldn't have felt like such a relief, but it was. I looked at the drawer the note had indicated and slowly slid it open, fully expecting it to explode or another demon to come crawling out of the dark space. Instead I saw the Holy Bible staring back at me with a small triangle of white sticking out from under it. I grabbed the small invitation and opened it to see the same looping text, this time obviously done by a computer.

_Mr. Gravois,_

_You are hereby cordially invited to the ball celebrating the inauguration of Lord Aduro Arenas as the ruling noble of Wisconsin. All hospitality agreements will be in effect, keeping in line with The Accords and with Lord Arenas as host. There will be food, music, and entertainment until the sun comes up. _

_Presentation of this invitation will allow for validated parking at the site of the party and will serve as recognition of the hospitality agreement extended to the holder by Lord Arenas. Further information below. RSVP not necessary._

_Date: Saturday, November 12_  
_Time: 9:00pm - 5:00am (Ceremony to start at 11:00pm)_  
_Location: Milton's Lounge_  
_2974 N Oakland Ave _  
_Milwaukee, WI 53211-3228_  
_Dress: Formal_

Of course RSVP was not necessary, Arenas knew I would be there. I had to be. Besides the fact that it was my mission, Lord Arenas had all but promised me a private audience which I could use to kill the bastard. It was a trap of course, but I would be under the protection of the Accords and there was no way in hell I was going to pass up a chance at spearing that bloodsucking murderer through the stomach.

I picked up the phone and pressed nine to dial out followed by the number for the local Fellowship hotline. It was remarkable to me that the phone line even worked though there was a bit of static between the rings, taking me to the headquarters. Kilik answered the phone with his usual angry clip and I replied in kind before giving him the necessary passwords to get through.

"Your call is late."

"I know, had a little run in with some kind of demon."

"Demon? Right, so you stopped and got some ass."

"Joking never really worked well for you so what are you sidestepping telling me," I was far angrier than I need to be, but I felt like I needed to take it out on someone and Kilik was a good candidate, "and I hope it's not that Lord Arenas is the vampire causing the hubbub because he just sent me an invitation to his initiation as the ruling noble of Wisconsin."

"And let me guess, you're going despite the fact that you know it's a trap and he is going to either kill you or turn you."

"You know it."

"And let me hazard another guess. You don't want backup and you will be just fine."

"You know me so well," I had a moment to wonder if this banter was really as old as it sounded. I wasn't that stubborn, "but tell me, is there someone stationed here that I should avoid, or tell not to get in my way?"

"Nobody from our side, there weren't enough vampires in the area to warrant it. The nearest member is around Centerville, IL. There's a couple mercenaries, people we have hired or worked with in the past. But there is more to tell y-"

"I'll be fine, so unless there is any more pertinent information to the case..."

"There is. He has the triplets with him."

Great. More good news.


	3. An Unexpected Visitor

**Chapter 3 - Patton  
**

A few days later, I woke to a series of loud thuds. My alarm clock blinked 3:14 at me in red, luminescent letters. I swore loudly. Whatever this was, it likely was unaware that it as breaking my eighth and final commandment - thou shalt not wake me at an ungodly hour without good reason. The motion sensor light over the porch had gone on, but I couldn't see anything from my bedroom window. And the thudding hadn't stopped - there were a few loud blows, a period of waiting, and then the blows were repeated. Somebody was knocking with a lot more force than a normal human body could muster. And it was knocking on my door. At 3:14 in the morning.

No good would come of this.

_At least it's not whatever attacked earlier. _This wasn't a terribly comforting thought, since there were dozens of other nasty things that didn't hail from the Nevernever that could do real, fleshy damage to my real, human flesh - and those were just the ones that immediately came to mind. I had made a great many enemies, natural and supernatural, alike. But I could be assured that this thing was of this earth, because of the enormous iron ring implanted just a few feet underneath my lawn, safely encircling the full house and the majority of the yard. Since I'm no wizard, the iron was my only physical defense against non-earthly beings. I had been doubtful at first that it would work, but since I'd had it installed, nothing supernatural had made it a few steps beyond the gate, and there had certainly been others who had tried. If I could manage to finagle a wizard to live with me, I could have proper wards, but I have no way of sustaining them, much less putting them up or taking them down.

I grabbed the crossbow from its display on the side table - _not _ornamental, incidentally - and opened the front door. A bored-looking young man wearing skintight leather pants, a mesh shirt, and a pair of shit-kicker steel-toed boots stood there, poised as if to knock again. I didn't buy that for a second - I'm very quiet, but he must have heard me coming. He didn't shiver at all in the brisk, late October air. He was pale, his fair hair tousled in an arrangement that looked like a vomiting starfish. His eyes, however, were deeply shadowed and gleamed just a bit too brightly.

"Patton, it's me...Heinrich...You can put the bow down." The bow stayed aimed precisely where it was pointed, which was between his eyes. "Aren't you glad to see me?"

"I can hardly contain my excitement, but believe me, I will try my very best."

"Can I come in?"

"You absolutely can_not._ And what in the _Hell_ do you think you're doing, pounding at the door at three in the morning?"

"Just dropping by."

"You've got to be shitting me."

"I shit you not."

"You have 30 seconds to explain why you're here before I shoot you."

"You wouldn't kill me."

"No, but I'll wound you, good and proper. You now have 23 seconds."

"I've been sent to ask why you haven't responded to Lord Arenas' invitation."

"At three in the morning?"

"I can't very well come by in broad daylight, can I?"

"And you certainly couldn't have shown up around six or seven, when the sun set? Why do you care about the ball? I'm assuming you're not here to check my measurements?"

"I think I could have a lot of fun with the inseam measurement in particular. I certainly know how to handle the proper implements."

_That you do, vampire boy. But that's beside the point._

"Your time is up. Which arm do you prefer?"

"What?"

"You've had your thirty seconds, and you've done nothing but spout shit. Which arm do you favor? Left or right?"

"You're really not going to let me in? It could be fun -"

"So could shooting you full of holes so you look like a cheese grater. Fun's relative. Spit it out. What do you want here? Who sent you?" He opened his mouth to speak. "And if you say 'I was sent' one more time, I will make you very sorry you came here."

He was at my throat in a second. I was inhumanly fast, a vestige of my rather murky paternal heritage, but I can't compete with the superhuman speed of a vampire, nor can I compete with their strength or toughness, at least not without the proper tools. And I'd royally pissed him off.

"You're right," he assured me, plucking the crossbow from my grip with no apparent effort and tossing it across the floor, where it made an ominous noise but didn't fire at my couch. I would have been pissed - I'd just conditioned the leather. "Fun is relative." I tried to push him off me, but it was useless. He had me securely pinned, and unless I startled him, I had no chance of getting free. "So is pain." He squeezed my wrist, grinding the bones painfully against each other. "So is death, human, and I'm considerably harder to kill than you are. You ought to be careful whom you threaten."

"Are you going to tell me why you're here?"

"Several reasons. Lord Arenas _is_ interested in whether or not you'll be attending his ball. I had other things to attend to tonight, which is why I was...delayed in calling on you. And _I _volunteered for this delightful task, knowing full well you would probably greet me as you did, because I haven't seen you in awhile and I missed you."

"Liar."

"I missed parts of you, anyway."

Sex with a vampire is unlike anything else I have ever experienced. It's one part incredible sex, one part vicious mixed martial arts match, one part complete and utter emotional void. They don't get tired, don't get winded, don't have trouble holding awkward or taxing positions for a long time, and can take a hell of a pounding without batting an eye. When they touch you, there's always the fear that they'll go for the jugular, break you in half, tear you limb from limb, and it's more exhilarating than drugs, high-speed chases, and the majority of most other near-death experiences. Above and beyond the sex, there's also the fear that your surroundings will be completely and utterly destroyed.

"That was fun," he remarked lightly, slithering back into his leather pants. I'd torn his shirt, but one of the benefits of mesh is that it never really looks destroyed.

"That it was." I located my underwear and pulled them on. Another benefit of vampires - they don't do pillow talk, and they don't linger.

"Can Lord Arenas expect you?"

"He can. And before you ask, that was decided before your visit. Are you going to tell me why you care whether I'm there or not? Last I checked, you had nothing to do with his court. Aren't you under Lady Gabriela Luna?"

"My allegiances are no concern of yours. Good night."

"'Night."

He was gone in a minute, leaving me to check for structural damage to my living room and furniture. None that I could see. I checked the crossbow and set it back on its stand before padding into the kitchen in bare feet, hoping to fulfill a deep and unyielding desire for something, _anything_ containing cheese. Leftover ravioli, washed down with a dark ale. The fourth meal of champions.

In the corner, a large mass of dark fur stirred, possibly lured into semi-wakefulness by the smell of food. Rex and Regina are possibly siblings, one part dark-haired Newfoundland, one part elephant. Rex is easily 200 lbs, pure black and rather self-satisfied. Regina is only slightly smaller and a rich shade of dark brown. She is Rex's boss. They sleep in one giant mass of limbs wherever they feel is appropriate, though I've trained them to stay off the furniture. Regina (so named because she is the queen) lifted her enormous head from where it rested on Rex's haunches, cast me a sleepy glance, and, upon realizing no food was forthcoming, went immediately back to sleep.

That left me to ponder what Heinrich had gotten himself into, or what stake Lady Luna had lost. I'd met her and very nearly been killed by her on four separate occasions. She was no brown-noser, and certainly not one to lend her allegiance to, of all people, Lord Arenas. She's a bit big for her britches, that's to be certain, but she's been around since the Renaissance or earlier (they weren't very big on accurate record-keeping back then) and is one of the strongest creatures I've ever met. If her man was on loan to Arenas, either she was trying to win his favor (which I found hard to imagine) or Arenas had simply claimed Heinrich or forced her to give him up, and Lady Luna was unable to dispute it. That meant there was an angry and violently vengeful vampire queen on the loose, out to prove she was bigger and badder than Arenas, which she probably was.

It was unsettling, to say the least. The bottom of my beer bottle provided few answers, though it helpfully suggested that I have another. The next one informed me that I'd best get to sleep, but now that it was nearly seven in in the morning, the sky was lightening, somewhat golden along the horizon. I can't sleep with the sun out. It's unnatural. Regina stretched and yawned, pattered over to me, surprisingly light on her feet for such a large dog, and looked at me with her big brown eyes in a way that could only mean "walk." I checked on Rex and she batted at his nose until he awoke, and I grabbed my keys, clipped on their leashes, and set out for a long run to clear my head. Heinrich and I hadn't done much talking, but now I had a lot of questions and the sneaking suspicion that I wouldn't like the answers when I found them.


End file.
